


A First Kiss

by cozywilde



Series: Smoochtober [25]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, First Kiss, Kissing, M/M, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 13:30:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21180239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cozywilde/pseuds/cozywilde
Summary: When Cyrus comes calling, he's after a quick fuck - but Oren has other ideas.





	A First Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> [Cyrus](https://toyhou.se/3870644.cyrus), a grumpy young rockstar who has had decidedly bad luck with relationships  
[Oren](https://toyhou.se/3438280.oren), a mellow and kindhearted satyr who admires Cyrus' spirit and wants to show him something better

A sharp bang on his door jostles Oren out of sleep. He squints through the darkness to the clock ticking at his bedside - it’s nearly three in the morning. _ What on earth…? _The door rattles with another series of knocks and a muffled, “Get your fluffy ass out of bed already!” 

Oren smiles and shakes his head. Suddenly it all becomes clear. “One moment,” he calls, pushing the blankets back and rolling out of bed. His hooves clack gently against the wooden floor as he walks to the door, pulling it open. “Good morning, Cyrus,” he says, standing back so he can walk in. 

“It’s the middle of the night, and it definitely isn’t good,” Cyrus snarls, but he comes in. Oren closes the door behind him, brow furrowing as he watches Cyrus pacing the room. His hectic motions don’t match the dark circles beneath his eyes, and his clear exhaustion definitely doesn’t line up with the way he storms over to shove Oren back against the door, licking his lips deliberately. 

“Cyrus, what are you doing?” Oren says, placing a hand on his shoulder. The muscle is rigid beneath his fingers, and he kneads it absently, most of his focus on trying to get Cyrus to meet his eyes. 

Cyrus laughs humorlessly, shoulder twitching under Oren’s hand. “I think you’ll figure it out.” He ducks out from Oren’s loose hold easily, dropping to his knees and smoothing his hands up Oren’s thighs, ruffling the soft hair the wrong way.

“Oh… Cyrus,” Oren sighs. “You look exhausted, there’s no need for this.”

“Fuck you,” Cyrus says, though there’s little venom in his rough voice. “I’m fine.”

Oren pauses, reassessing. “My mistake. You know yourself, of course.”

“Damn right I do,” Cyrus mutters. His fingers reach the thicker fluff between Oren’s legs, rubbing roughly. “C’mon, let your dick out already.” 

“Ah,” Oren gasps, tail flicking restlessly behind him. “Cyrus, there’s really no need to rush.” He reaches down to move Cyrus’ hands back to the safer territory of his thighs, and Cyrus glares at him. 

“Do you want a blowjob or am I just wasting my time,” he growls, sitting back on his heels. “There are tons of people who’d fuckin’ love to be where you are right now, you know -” 

“I’m sure there are, Cyrus, and I’m so happy you came to me.” 

Cyrus falters. “Well… good, then.” Oren smiles, and smiles wider as a faint pink blossoms on Cyrus’ cheeks. “Hey, uh… let’s just fuck instead.” 

Oren frankly wonders how Cyrus finds any energy for this at all. “Can we at least lay down?”

Clearly focusing on the fact that Oren hadn’t flat-out refused, Cyrus gives a cocky smirk. “As long as you don’t fall asleep on me, old man.” He pushes himself up, shoving his pants off before Oren has even taken a step. His shirt joins the pants a moment later, and then Cyrus scrambles onto the bed on hands and knees. 

“Come _ on,” _he says, wiggling his ass. “I ain’t getting any younger.” 

He’s _ so _ cute, but Oren is certain he wouldn’t appreciate him saying so in his current mood. Instead he walks over, bypassing Cyrus’ display to lay down next to him. Cyrus looks over when the bed shifts, frowning. 

“Would you mind if we take it a little slower this time, Cyrus?” Oren asks. He raises a hand to rub Cyrus’ side, a gentle pressure that slides over to his back, encouraging him to lay down too. 

“I kinda do,” Cyrus grumbles. Still, he flops down to the bed, scooting closer to Oren. 

“I just find it a bit of a shame,” Oren muses, looping an arm around Cyrus. “We’ve spent so much time together without cuddling, without even kissing -” 

Cyrus stiffens, in the process of wiggling his thigh between Oren’s. “We’ve fucked, you mean,” he says bluntly. “There’s no need for any of that other shit.” 

“I happen to enjoy kissing,” Oren says. “You don’t like it at all?” 

Cyrus’ eyes flick away. “There’s just no point. You don’t need it.” 

Oren tilts his head, judging the flush on Cyrus’ face, his evasive not-quite-answers. “Can I kiss you?”

“I dunno,” Cyrus says. He rests a hand on Oren’s chest, playing with the thick fur there. “It’s stupid. We should just fuck already and get it over with.” 

“Now, that’s hardly how I’d like to think of our time together,” Oren says, not unkindly. “Something to rush through? It can be so much better.” He nudges a finger beneath Cyrus’ chin, trying to get him to look up. “Let me show you?” 

He waits patiently, and after a few long moments Cyrus glances up at him. “Yeah. Sure. If it’s such a fuckin’ turn on for you or whatever.” 

“If you don’t like it, I want you to tell me,” Oren says. 

Cyrus narrows his eyes. “And then what, you kick me out?” 

“And then we do whatever you want.” 

Frowning, Cyrus sizes him up. “Yeah. Alright. I’ll tell you if I don’t like it, and then we can finally fuck like I’ve been telling you this whole time.” 

Oren smiles, placid. “If that’s what you want.” He reaches over, combing his fingers through the mess of Cyrus’ hair. He dips his head, lips skimming over Cyrus’ cheek. 

“Seriously?” Cyrus grumbles. “Get on with it.” 

“Always in such a hurry,” Oren says, dropping another kiss on the brightest spot of pink along Cyrus’ cheekbone. “But if that’s what you want…” He shifts, pressing his lips to Cyrus’. 

He doesn’t really respond at first, but Oren knows to give him time. He kisses Cyrus slowly, coaxingly, petting Cyrus’ hair, rubbing slow circles into the tense muscles of his neck. It’s the massage that seems to break Cyrus’ stubborn resistance; the muscles loosen, and he gives a soft moan, fingers tightening in the ruff of fur around Oren’s neck. 

Oren moans back into Cyrus’ mouth, delighted. With that it’s like a dam breaking, Cyrus pressing as close to Oren as he can, kissing back frantically. When they pull back for short, gasping breaths, Cyrus whines low in his throat, lurching back into the kiss like it’s killing him to stop. The enthusiasm, Oren loves; the desperation he could do with less of - he draws a hand down Cyrus’ back, kneading at the tension there. 

Cyrus groans when he hits a knot, back arching. “Shit,” he gasps, and tucks his face into Oren’s chest fluff. 

“You alright, Cyrus?” Oren murmurs, keeping up the slow massage. 

“Fuck… yeah,” Cyrus groans. “S’pose you’re gonna gloat now, huh?” 

Oren smiles. “I’m just happy that you’re happy.” 

“Jus’ gimme like… five minutes, alright?” Cyrus mumbles, eyelids drooping. “Then... we can...”

“Fuck, I know,” Oren finishes for him, amused. Not that Cyrus hears. He’s already snuffling little snores into Oren’s chest. Oren reaches over to draw the blanket over both of them, smiling softly as Cyrus snuggles closer and pressing a quick kiss to his forehead. “Sleep well.”


End file.
